


A Robot's Birth

by RemainingQuestions



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, In a way, Team as Family, backstory for a dnd character, be kind and kindness will come to you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 23:50:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12221478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemainingQuestions/pseuds/RemainingQuestions
Summary: When your creator intended you to be no more than a handy machine, getting to know others that do not can be revolutionary.





	A Robot's Birth

I wake up fully formed and aware of my surroundings. There is a roof and walls all made of stone, and there, a door, but no windows. There is also a drawing on the stone floor, stark white against dark grey, and at some points are lit candles.

The human takes a step towards me as I move my head. I can hear him gasp, and he moves his face.

“Do you, do you understand me?” He says as he moves closer, his face still... moved, and a hand extended to my face.

I open my mouth, and it takes some thinking, but then I say “yes.”

The man's face moves in a different way that shows his teeth, and his eyes are still wide, but in a different way.

“My name is Nunjon.” Nunjon says, and now he's nearly within arm's reach of me and he stops moving closer, and I... feel differently for it, but I do not know what it is, or what to name it. “What, ah, what is your name?”

I tilt my head as I think. “I do not have one.” Names are given by creators, or as descriptors. That is logical, and I wonder what Nunjon describes, or if it was given by his creators.

“Right, ah, I should give you a name, shouldn't I?” Nunjon looks down at his shoes as he says this, one hand moving up to his head, into his hair.

I move my hand up to my head too, but the 'thunk’ tells me that I have no hair. “Yes.”

“Huh?” He looks up, and his face is moved differently again, more like the first time he changed it, but still different. “Right yes. Your name is, ah,”

“Is my name Ah?” I wonder, it doesn't sound like a description, but neither does Nunjon.

“No! No, uhm, your name is... Slag.” Nunjon looked up at me. “Yes, your name is Slag.”

“Okay.” Slag. I try to change my face as well, but I cannot. This is also making me feel things, different from when Nunjon stopped moving but in the same way.

“Ah, okay, so now, I, uh, need to tell you what to do right?” Nunjon is looking at his feet again.

\---

I stand behind Nunjon in clothes and a hat. There is a dagger in each of my shoes and a small sword at my belt, hidden beneath my long coat. Nunjon told me to keep to his back and not to say or ask anything. I would have to kill who he was talking to when he crossed his fingers on his back.

I looked around me as we walked through the city, and saw men all around. Men selling stuff from stalls and men buying it, men walking around with little men and men talking to other men, but I saw no one like me. There was another... feeling, Nunjon had told me when I asked what they were, inside me. It was not happy but it wasn't sad either. It was closer to sad.

\---

Nunjon didn't like explaining things to me. He didn't like it when I asked why some men wore different clothes, ‘dresses! They're called dresses!’ he told me, ‘and only women wear them!’, or why some flowers had different colours and shapes. He didn't like it when I asked him what ‘feelings’ were either, and I think he has always had and understood them. He least liked when I asked why. I didn't know why, but I had no way of knowing that without asking him.

\---

Nunjon got mad easily, and when he got mad, often because I honestly didn't understand or because I was asking too many questions again, he threw things, and shouted. It happened far too often that he then threw some book or trinket that held a much greater value than I knew of and he would get mad if I caught it and madder if I didn’t.

\---

Today a year ago I was created. I had killed eight men for Nunjon, three because they attacked him and five because I was along as a guard and he told me to. Today was different, not because I was a year old now, but because Nunjon was down in the dungeon I was created in. I'm not allowed in, but I had carried in the heavy things he couldn't carry like usual, and I recognised the room. I think he's going to create another one like me. This gave me feelings like ‘sad’ and ‘angry’ but not really either. I know that Nunjon isn't kind. I know that he will be the same to another one of me if they were created. I know that he makes me a kind of 'sad' often.

“Are you making another one of me?”

“What?” Nunjon asked, looking up from the heavy book on his desk, “why are you asking questions again?” He shouts and stands up. I think that this meant he doesn't want me to know, but it is very clear to me. “You need to stop with the questions, understood! I told you so many times! No questions!” He looks like ‘angry’ but a lot of it.

He puts his hands in his hair and starts to mutter, “just a few adjustments, and then he'll be good, he'll be perfect, unlike this one, no, so much better!”

I didn't want someone like me to be created only to be shouted at by Nunjon. I know that he will make someone like me because I ask to many questions and because I sometimes get distracted by flowers that make me ‘happy’ to look at. I think he will ask this new someone like me to destroy me when they show they are good like I am wrong. I don't want to be destroyed, but I can't stop Nunjon.

Nunjon is still muttering “it didn't say it would ask so many questions, be this useless without constant guidance, no with these adjustments it will be so much better! Ha, no more ‘why’, no more questions about _feelings_ , no, none of that, ha!” He starts laughing now, but it doesn't sound like the sounds little men, children, make when playing with other children on the street. It sounds almost like ‘angry’ and it makes me feel the same as lighting storms make me feel, ‘fear’ Nunjon had called it, and then he called me ‘useless’ but I know I am not, because he uses me often, when guarding or when lifting things. It still made me feel like ‘sad’.

I remember the other times Nunjon called me useless and there are many. Even my name is a useless substance. I don't know if Nunjon knew that when he named me Slag, or if he overheard some miners talking about it. I know that the other someone like me he wants to create will also ask questions, and be distracted by flowers or butterflies. I don't want them to be called useless when they are not, like I am. I suddenly know how to stop it from happening. How to stop Nunjon.

I wear a short sword all the time now, unlike when I was younger and I only wore it when I had to kill someone or guard Nunjon. Nunjon started to be more reclusive and more afraid of people trying to kill him even in his house, so I had to wear it all the time, ‘just in case’.

Would it be wrong, to kill Nunjon? No, I think not. It was not wrong to kill those other men, so why should this be wrong? Nunjon has sat back down and is now writing very fast with a face that makes me feel a sort of ‘fear’. I know now, that this is the best to do.

Nunjon doesn't look up when I unsheathe my sword. He doesn't look up when I walk to his side. When I stab him in the back, he looks up, and his face is much paler now, and his shirt redder, just like all those other men I killed. He gasps, and I think he wants to ask ‘why?’. It makes me an odd sort of ‘happy’, that his last question would be one he didn't like me asking.

\---

After I killed Nunjon, I gathered the things I could, and put on the clothes he had me wear when we went to visit the city, including the weapons. I decide that I don't want to go to the city that I only visited with Nunjon. I want to see all the flowers there are.

\---

I ‘sleep’ underneath a tree during the day, and travel a lot during the night, because the stars are very pretty too and I'm less likely to meet someone during the night. I do not want to meet someone.

\---

I have been traveling for three weeks when I notice a particularly pretty flower. It's growing on a tree, and it smells very nice. I put my bag down and look closer.

“Hold still and move around.” A voice says behind me. The voice is soft, unlike Nunjon's, but it still speaks with something that makes me feel ‘fear’ not to do what it says. There is also a sword on my neck.

“I cannot do both.” I say, because I cannot, and so I do not move, but I don't turn around.

“Right, well, just turn slowly and don't move anything but your legs, okay?”

I do as the voice says, and the sword moves slightly, so it won't injure me.

“Well, that's interesting alright.” The man says, and there are more men behind him, with heavy bags and even two carts. He makes a motion with his hands and slowly all the men turn to look at us.

Another man moves through them and they step aside for him.

“Cap'n, I think we found the traveling metal man.” The man with a sword on my neck says.

Cap'n, because that must be the man's name, looks me up and down, and his eyes linger on the sword on my hip and my face.

“What's your name then?” Cap'n asks.

I look around at the men, more than fifty, and I feel ‘fear’ again, but so much worse than during the thunderstorm. “My name is Slag.”

The men start whispering then, but the one with a sword on my neck and Cap'n don't, they only glance at each other and back at me again.

Cap'n whistles, and the whispering stops. “My name is Rewill, this is Arlyd, my second-in-command.”

“Your name isn't Cap'n?” I ask before I remember that asking questions is bad and make people angry.

“Ha! No, that's my title. Can I be so rude as to ask you, well, what you are?”

“Nunjon called me ‘warforged’, but I don't know what that is.” I say, and tilt my head. “You are all human, yes?”

“‘Warforged’, hmmm, can't say I know what that means. And yes, we're 64 human swords.” Rewill says, and his face looks a weird sort of ‘happy’, and he's looking me over again.

"How can humans be swords?" I ask again because Rewill didn’t seem to get mad for the last question.  

“Tell you what. You give me your weapons, still sheathed, and we go talk.”

“Okay.” And so, I do.

Rewill tells Arlyd to set up camp here, and tells me to follow him.

Rewill walks to the other end of the clearing where a table is being set up, and sits down on a chair as soon as it's unfolded, then makes a motion with his arm towards the chair on the other side of the table.

“I mean, take a seat.” He says, and then he rubs his hand down his face, and it reminds me of Nunjon and rubbing his hair, but it is different. He makes a motion with his arm again, but this time someone brings a bottle of clear water and two tin cups. Rewill fills both cups about halfway and pushes one towards me. He takes a sip of the water. “You are supposed to drink it, I think.”

“Thank you.” I say, because that's what you say when people do things for you. It's the first time I drank anything. The water tastes like clear skies look and the way a soft breeze feels. I take another sip, because this is delicious.

“Now, let me answer your question and then you can answer some of mine, yes?” Rewill is still holding his cup, despite the fact that both it and his hand are on the table.

“Okay.” I say, and I copy what he is doing. He looks at my hand a long while before looking back at my face.

“Right, we aren't actually swords. What people mean when they say something like ‘human swords’ is really that they're swords for hire, understand?”

“You hire out swords?” This is more confusing than humans also being swords, after all Nunjon was human but also magic.

“No, no, we are... soldiers for hire. We fight, with swords, for anyone that pays.” Rewill's face had moved, and it was a sort of sad-face but not really.

“I understand now. Thank you.” I take another sip of water, because it really does taste amazing, but then again, I never tasted anything else.

“Ah, sure, no problem?” Rewill moves his cup and a bit of the water goes over the top. “Now, who is that Nunjon you mentioned earlier?”

Rewill asked a lot of questions, and I answer them as best I could, but he often asked very similar questions until he seemed to have all the information he wanted. He also refilled my cup every time I emptied it.

\---

Rewill wants me to stay the night. He doesn't trust these parts of the woods, he says. He still hasn't got all his answers he says. He looks like he's lying when he says all of this but I don't say anything.

I stay by the fire even after everyone has gone to guard or sleep. I explained to Rewill that I don't need sleep, but he looks at me a bit like Nunjon did right after I killed him. Rewill gave me an entire bag of water and told me to drink as much of that as I wanted. I don't refill my cup.

\---

When Rewill asks me if I know how to use the sword at my hip, I tell him of the eight men I killed. He asks me to move with them, and I agree. Rewill is... unlike Nunjon. Nunjon told me to do things where Rewill asks me, and Nunjon never gave me water.

\---

I move with the men for a week, and they ask me a lot of questions, but they seem to like the answers. They explain the concept of a ‘joke’ to me, but I still don't understand. I laugh along and I think it makes me ‘happy’.

Sometimes Rewill asks me questions, but mostly he leads, he leads where we will travel to and when we'll rest and who guards when.

 

At the end of the week, Rewill tells me to follow him again. We sit down at the same table as a week ago.

“How has this week been treating you?”

“How can a time period treat me?” I don't understand, and Rewill seems not to mind too much when I ask questions. I like that better than Nunjon.

“Let me restate, have you been happy this week?” Rewill's eyes remind me of stone now, and I remember that Nunjon's eyes never looked like that, like steadiness in a face.

I tilt my head and think. Emotions are hard for me, but I laughed this week, and laughing is what you do when you're happy. Rewill doesn't seem ‘angry’ that I take longer to answer. “Yes?” I tilt my head the other way, people talked to me this week, and they didn't seem afraid, they even seemed to _want_ to talk to me. “Yes.”

“Good, and have my men been treating you kindly?” Rewill's eyes are still stones, but the ends of his mouth have moved up slightly, and I think he liked my answer.

“They ask me questions, and they explained jokes.” These were facts. Facts were easier than emotions.

“Good. Very good.” Rewill’s eyes leave my face and land on the table. “Would you like to get better at using that sword of yours?”

“Yes.” I would always want to be better, because better is always good, Nunjon always got mad at me when I wasn’t good enough.

“Good. Would you like to train with us, and fight with us?”

I tilt my head and think. I would like to train with these men, these men that have been... kind. I don't think I know what fighting is. What Nunjon had me do was kill. “Yes.” These men have been kind, and correct my mistakes with smiles and soft words, were Nunjon would use hurled objects and shouts.

“Good. You'll train with me until I know for sure what weapon would be better suited to you than that tiny thing.”

Rewill had me attack him. He smiled and fought me of. Then he had me attack him again. We did this a lot that night. I don't know what I learned, other than that Rewill was really good at fighting, but Rewill must have learned something.

\---

We stopped close to a town some days later. He asked me for the money I had with me, and went into town. When he returned he had two big weapons with him and some sort of shirt, a shirt of mail.

“A great sword and a maul. And some protection, put that shirt on.” He pulled the metal after I put it on over my shirt, but he seemed satisfied. “We'll train with these tonight. Try moving with them a bit already.”

I nearly hit someone once, when he reminds me that I need to move to the edge of camp when training. These weapons are a lot heavier, and I can't lift them with one hand.

That night, Rewill first explains how to hold the great sword, and I was right, you can't hold it with just one hand. I can use more force now, and I like that. We do the same with the maul, and I like that one even more than the great sword.

Rewill doesn't just have me charge at him tonight. He also explains some basic moves. Once I can do those I need to train with someone else, because Rewill mostly uses two short swords.

\---

I fall into a rhythm of walking and training and sitting by the fire. I like it. Brirol tells me how to move without getting hindered by my armour and how to move with a weapon and a shield and Jelin tells me how to use bigger weapons and how to switch between one hand and two. I start to understand jokes now, and I do feel happy.

\---

After some weeks, we settle in next to a city. I can use my weapons now. When Rewill tells the soldiers something he is also talking to me. My pack is bigger than most of these men, but I don't mind.

We stay longer than the two or three days we've stayed at other places.

Jarnas shows me how to aim using a bow, and I learn that bows are more fragile, even if their damage is great. He shows me the difference between crossbow bolts and arrows, tells me how to load a crossbow, which is hard and different. Jarnas doesn't smile often, but he corrects my posture and my aim improves.

\---

The lord of this city could use some armed men, Rewill tells us, all the men under his command and even if I'm not a man I am under his command, that we will stay here for longer. He tells us that we will get paid, but we might not need to fight. We can stay in the barracks.

\---

That night, while Jelin is explaining a hard move for the third time it starts to rain. I don't like the rain. When we reach the tent Jelin is sleeping in it starts to storm. I feel fear again. Jelin invites me in with a smile, and the two other men in his tent don't seem to object.

The storm doesn't stop when darkness comes. We play cards, and I think I like it. The men let me stay, even though I do not sleep here. They joke about me rusting in the rain. I know I won’t but I would much rather be in here than out there so I don't correct them.

\---

The next day we break up camp. I help, because I can, and this is something I know. I realise I want to help.

Rewill pulls me aside after we finish breaking up.

“Look, I need you to wear the same clothes you wore when we first met, okay?”

“Okay.” I am already wearing the same pants and shirt, but I prefer to walk without shoes, the jacket restricts my movement and the hat restricts my vision.

Rewill puts a hand on my shoulder. “It's not that you need to hide, okay, it's just... I don't want to scare people.” I am scary, I know this. Nunjon often had me pull of my hat to show my alien face to intimidate people. It still makes me sad that Rewill says this, but I don't understand why, because I already know. I am tempted to ask Rewill, because he has always answered my questions in the past, but I also want to be alone. I do not understand why I want to be alone either. I remind myself that not all men are the same and that Nunjon and Rewill are very different.

“Okay.” I look down at my feet. Rewill pats my shoulder and moves on. He has swords to command after all.

\---

The people still stare when we walk through the city. Normally when we walk we chat and people sing songs. Today we do not. I wonder if they see that I am different or if they are scared of the obvious weapons. I hunch into my jacket, suddenly even more aware of the ways I stand out, and that my weapons are only the start of the long list.

\---

The barracks are dusty and the doors squeak and groan when we open them, but the air still feels lighter in here than in the streets.

\---

Rewill starts to plan who sleeps where, and the men seem very happy that there are beds. I wonder how long ago it is that men last slept in these beds. The thought makes me sad and happy at the same time and I do not understand. The building seems small to me. I remember the dungeon I was created in, and the thick layer of dust in most of the rooms in that building. The simple walls remind me of Nunjon's castle but there would never be this many people in Nunjon's house, nor would they be this... happy? Some men are humming as they shake out sheets and open windows.

I look around and see Rewill talking to Jelin and one of the men he shared his tent with. They all look at me and I look down.

I sleep in a room with Jelin and Thonor. They don't mind, and there are only two beds in the room. They go to sleep earlier than last night and I am happy that it's not storming now. I sit down between the beds, were I can see both the window and the door.

The next three days are spent in much the same manner. We tidy the dusty barracks and I wonder why we are here. I want to ask Rewill or Jelin but I don't want them to get upset at my questions. They don't seem to mind that we were hired to fight and instead are being paid to clean.

I get my answer at breakfast the next morning. I don't eat, because I don't know if I'm allowed to.

Rewill stands up and hits the table with his cup until everyone is looking and listening.

“Men. Surely you wonder why we were hired.” A murmur passed through but I don't listen to anyone but Rewill. What he has to say is important, I know, but I wonder how I know. “The lord.” Rewill takes a breath as the last whispers quiet down, “the lord of these lands has recently get some competition. He needs us to make sure it doesn't get bad.” Some men cheer now, but I don't know why, spilling blood is not something I want to do, but something that simply must happen. “Maybe some intimidation is all that he needs, but somehow, I doubt that.” Rewill takes a drink from his cup “we need to be ready to move at all times.”

Excited chatter breaks out at this announcement and I still do not understand why. Jelin sits next to me and simply sighs.

\---

We get the order to move the very next day. We grab pre-packed packs and march quickly. The men that seemed excited yesterday don't sing marching songs today, not even after we have left the city.

The pace Rewill sets is fast, and he tells us that we won't stop for lunch.

We don't stop until darkness makes it hard for men to see. We don't have tents, and Rewill orders us not to make fire because we don't want to attract attention. I have watch for the entire night, while the other men switch in the middle of the night so that everyone can get rest. I don't mind, because I can ‘sleep’ and still hold watch.

\---

The next day is also spent marching.

\---

Half way through the next day we reach some tents with flags. The tents look different from the ones we had. Rewill goes in together with Arlyd. Jelin claps me on the shoulder and tells me to join their game of cards. I would smile if I could.

It takes longer than I expected until Rewill and Arlyd leave the tent, and when they do there are two other men with them, but neither of them wears armour. They continue to talk while they walk in between the small groups of our men.

Our pocket of cards and conversation isn't very obvious between the others, but when the clouds part and the sun shines brightly for a few moments the men that aren't wearing amour look immediately to us.

One starts to gesture a lot and I worry that I made trouble for Rewill.

“Psh, Slag, I can see your cards.” Jelin says softly. He wasn't looking at my cards though, he was looking at the man waving his arms a lot. I think he's lying but I don't ask.

Jelin wins that round. I still look behind me often, but the men have gone back into their odd tent with Rewill and Arlyd. I worry that I will need to leave again and that makes me sad. The thought of leaving Nunjon did not and I wonder what is different. I think it's the fact that these men make me happy and Nunjon made me sad. We continue to play, and Jelin wins a lot, but Jelin always wins a lot.

The clouds continue to move in front of the sun and away again.

The sun is moving ever closer to the horizon when Arlyd comes out of the tent. He walks to us in a straight line. His face is not happy or sad, but it looks closer to sad, with a bit of angry.

“Slag.” He is standing next to me now. I stand up. “We need you in the tent.” He walks away and I give my cards to Jelin and follow. “Look, you just need to be a bit more normal, okay?” Arlyd asks, I understand that I need to not ask questions a lot, and think about what they want to hear instead of what they are asking. I nod.

He stops moving when we reach the opening of the tent. He strokes a hand down his beard. “Look, I don't mind that you're a bit... you. But he will, and we need this job. Just. Be normal.”

I nod, and he opens the flap of the tent.

There is a table inside and Rewill and the two other men are sat around it. “Slag, good of you to join us!” Rewill pulls out a chair and gestures at it. I sit down and he smiles at me. I think I can act like I understand what is really going on.

The two men are the lord we have to fight for and his second-in-command. They wonder what I am and why I am here. Rewill answers most of their questions even if they look at me while they ask them. Their questions make me sad, but Rewill's answers make me happy.

They don't trust me and are afraid. I know this, I even knew this before I was called into their tent. It still makes me sad and I wonder why.

\---

The enemy is on the other side of the field, they also have tents with flags, but their flags are different colours.

We don't fight the that day, or the day after that.

The third day after we arrived here we do.

\---

Battle is nothing like the killing Nunjon had me do.

\---

Brirol and five others are injured, but none of our men are dead. The others are all dead.

\---

We are hired for another two weeks, Rewill tells us, and during those two weeks we can stay in the barracks. The men are happy but also sad.

 

I kept count before, but during the mess of actual battle I lost count. Jelin tells me I fought well when we are breaking up camp again. I do not believe him but I really want to, and that confuses me.

\---

The next two weeks are spent inside the barracks. I train in one of the large rooms, and I think I am getting better. I do not go outside because I do not want to frighten the humans.

\---

We leave and we travel. Jelin and Thonor play cards with me and I am happy.

\---

We reach another city and this time Rewill takes not only Arlyd but also me with him when he goes to talk to the lord. This lord seems to be happy that I am odd. He talks to Rewill and Arlyd like I am not here and calls me ‘it’. Rewill introduced me as Slag but doesn't correct him. I don’t know why this makes me as sad as it does.

We join an existing militia in that city. The men look at me like Jarnas looks at a bow he might buy, taking in all the details and possibilities without shame and discarding me as soon as they see the slightest flaw.

We fight, and it's even bloodier than the first battle and one of our men dies. I did not know his name and this makes me sad.

We stay in the city and our men and the men of the city share songs and play cards, even Jelin and Thonor share laughs with them. I feel a cold sort of sad.

We fight another three battles for that city before we leave. I count the days, weeks, months. We spent over nine months in that city.

\---

We are walking over a field when I see it. It is little and it is alive. I catch it in my hands but I don't kill it. I show it to Jelin.

“You caught a bunny with your bare hands?” He looks closely to the little thing I have in my hands “and it's still alive, even!”

“I want to keep it,” I start.

“What?”

“I want to keep it, do you think Rewill would let me?”

“Well,” Jelin scratches his head and I remember the first thing I saw Nunjon do. It is not at all similar and that makes me happy. “The only way to know is to ask?”

“Okay.” I start to walk towards Rewill and Jelin follows me with a smile on his face. I wonder if the thought of the little thing always close makes him as happy as me.

Rewill is laughing with Arlyd and some others and he looks up at me and Jelin.

“What's wrong Slag?”

“I caught this.” I show Rewill the little thing and his eyes widen.

“Is... Did you actually catch it alive?” All of the men are now looking at me.

“Yes.” The animal is squirming again. I try to close my hands around it while not hurting it, but my hands are not used to being gentle. It jumps free and I try to catch it, and I do. But it is no longer moving. “Oh.”

“You really are a curious one, aren't you?” One of the men says. This makes me even sadder than killing the bunny.  Rewill looks at him with an angry face.

“Why are you even named Slag, when something like Fluffy would fit you so much more?” Jelin asks with a smile and Rewill looks at us again and smiles. I want to smile at him, but I am also sad.

“Nunjon named me Slag.” I say, because he did, and I do not know why and will never know.

“You know what slag is, right?” The same man as earlier says, “it's stone waste you get when refining metal.” Rewill looks at him with anger again.

“We all know what Slag means, but that doesn't explain why he's named it, does it?” Rewill looks angry at the two men and I wonder what I did wrong. I want to run away, even though I know that there is no danger here. I am only getting sadder and sadder the more they talk.

“Would you prefer to be named Fluffy?” Jelin says softly, a hand on my shoulder. I would smile at him if I could, instead I simply nod.

“So Fluffy you will be called from now on!” Rewill says loudly so he can be heard over the argument that has broken out. I did not realise he was listening to us talk. I want to smile at him too.

\---

I travel and fight with these men for three years. When in cities I wear my big coat and hat. I fight better and better. We don't lose any men.

I am happy.

\---

I saw Jelin getting hit. I saw it with my own eyes. The battle is won, and _we won_ but I saw Jelin getting hit. It was with a harsh clang and there was a large spray of blood and I have killed men and had it look the same way.

I look around, twisting my head as fast as I can. I do not see him. I see there, Brirol helping Arlyd up, and there Jarnas supporting Thonor, but I do not see Jelin.

I see then, Rewill bent over a man. I take two long strides and I recognise him, I found Jelin.

I drop my maul and jump to his side. He is bleeding and I feel afraid and sad and cold. I drop to my knees on the other side of Jelin and Rewill looks at me with a sad face.

Jelin grasps my shoulder and his hand is grey and cold and I feel so afraid. “Flu... Fluffy.” He takes a deep breath and coughs so hard his body shakes with it. Blood comes out of his mouth. I grasp his shoulder, and the torn metal feels warmer than the hand on my shoulder and I feel more afraid than ever before. “Look. You, you need to.” He gasps for breath again but does not cough this time. His face is starting to look grey as well. “Find your... origin.” He is panting, and I have seen him run miles with full armour and only be slightly out of breath, why is a simple conversation tiring him out so much? “ _Make_ your... destiny.” He stares into my eyes and doesn't blink. I know that Rewill is looking at me too, but I only pay attention to Jelin. “Promise me, Fluffy. Pro-” He starts coughing again and more blood spills out of his mouth. I know now, with complete and utter certainty that he is dying.

“I promise.” The words leave my mouth before I realise I want to say them. “I promise I will! Please,” I do not know how to finish that sentence and Rewill interrupts me.

“Jelin?” He pats Jelin's grey face. “Jelin!” He hits him now. There are tears streaming down Rewill's face and this is the first time I wanted to cry.

Jelin's eyes are grey now too, grey and flat and staring past me to a cloudy sky. I shout out the emotions I do not understand. It sounds horrid and otherworldly to my ears and I wonder how bad it must sound to everyone else.

\---

I do not know how long I sit next to the dead body of my friend. The earth is turned to mud not from rain but blood and I wish I could cry. I am fine, I know. No hits fell on me. Still my body feels like it is torn apart, like nothing will hold me together.

Thonor pulls me up and I notice that he walks with a limp and there are tear tracks down his face but I do not care.

There is an eerie quiet in the hall we are staying at. Jelin wasn't the only dead, and many more were injured. I feel like part of my chest was taken out, and wish again that I could cry, because surely that would hurt less than this. Thonor sits me down, and puts some sort of alcohol in front of me.

Jelin used to love drinking it and once dared me to get drunk. We drank, and I liked the taste, but when he couldn't walk anymore I was still fully aware.

I wish I could get drunk now, Jelin looked happy drunk, even if he couldn't walk or talk properly. The hole in my chest feels bigger and I drink when they toast to the dead. When they toast to Jelin.

I can see the sun setting through the windows and I do not move. The men are moving around me, going to bed or falling asleep, drunk, on a bench in the mess hall and I do not move. I can see the sun rise and I still do not move.

Why would I move? Where would I go to? I promised I would find my origin and make my destiny but I do not know where to start.

Some men are starting to wake when the sun is high and still I do not move. Thonor sits next to me with his face still pale and his limp still prominent but we do not talk. He left a gap between us for Jelin.

\---

Rewill finds me there, in the mess hall, still sitting there the evening after dinner.

“I would worry you'd starve yourself to death if you didn't already prove you don't really need food.” He sits down next to me with a plate of food and a cup of water. It is not the same cup as the first time we talked, but it looks alike, and the hole in my chest keeps growing. I look at his face, with a bold red line down it and I look back at the table.

“Just sitting here won't change anything you know.” He isn't looking at the table but straight at me, even sitting sideways on the bench.

He sighs. “Look, I heard his last words, and I know how much you cared about each other but... You can't just sit here and pretend like nothing changed.” His face looks sad and I know that he was a friend of Jelin as well, and all the other dead too.

“I didn't just start leading a band of mercenaries because I wanted to you know.” He is looking at the bench now and I take a bite of the potato.

“My dad used to say, ‘desperation will make a whore out of anyone.’ then my mom would smack him, but he'd say it all the same. And he's right.” Rewill is looking at me again and steals a stem of my greens, I do not mind because I do not think I can mind about anything right now. “I got this band together because I had no other career options, we all hadn't. What I'm trying to say.” Rewill sighs and puts his hand on my shoulder and it is so much warmer than I expected. I don't know if this is because the last touch I had was a dying man's or because of something else.

“What I'm trying to say is that you need to get out on your own. Follow Jelin’s last words, and follow your heart.” He is looking at me, and I at him. “You have so much potential, so much growing left to do, and I don't think you'll do it here.”

He stands up, but his hand is still on my shoulder and I think of Nunjon and how he never touched me, always kept his careful distance. Jelin hugged me. The hole in my chest must be consuming me, surely in a few hours nothing of me will be left, I wonder if this is sadness or something else, because it almost feels like pure nothing but sadness comes closest. “Just, think about going on your own, join an adventure, save a town. Like my mom used to say ‘everything depends on skill, heart and luck.’ and you have the skills and the heart already, and no one really _has_ luck.”

\---

I sit there until the food is cold and the moon is high and bright.

Then I stand up and start packing my bag.

I leave the next morning.


End file.
